“It’s working. We’ll have you back!”
“You’re a bit odd-looking at the moment,” I say with a cheeky grin, “but I’m sure you’ll turn out just fine.”
“You’re already completely adorable,” Elizabeth reassures him. “I can clearly see you in the shape of the face.”
“It seems he grows with great speed,” Analiese remarks.
“By tomorrow he’ll no doubt be much bigger,” Henry adds.
Here we all are-three living, two dead-in the music room.
“Ancient writings have led us astray before,” Konrad says. He’s trying to stay calm, but I can see the excitement in the angle of his shoulders.
“This was like no other writing I know,” I reply. “Reading it was like witnessing the event itself. It was real, Konrad.”
He sighs, in wonder or sheer desperation, I can’t tell.
“I hope you’re right. When will… When will it be ready, then?”
Strange, all these sidelong conversations we’re forced to have. He can never meet my eyes. I can gaze upon him, but he can only guess at me. I feel this inequality, but no pity. Our whole lives together, I was unequal to him, but when he returns, when I bring him back to life, things will surely be changed. The chessboard of our lives will forever be rewritten.
I’m bringing you back, Konrad. Don’t forget that.
“I can’t say,” I reply. “But not long.”
Then he surprises me by turning in Elizabeth’s direction and asking, “You’re sure you’re not opposed to this enterprise?”
She shakes her head.
“You should see her coddling the baby,” Henry says. “You’ll be spoiled when you return to us.”
Konrad gives a laugh. “I can scarcely believe it will work.”
“It will work,” I say, watching the numerous black butterflies flitting from person to person, showing off their colors briefly before darting off. There is such power in these things, so much knowledge to be unlocked.
“Have you heard any more of those noises from below?” Elizabeth asks with concern.
“From time to time,” says Konrad, and I can tell from his face he’s trying to be brave for her. “But no louder than before. Whatever it is, it’s not moving.”
“Let’s not worry about that,” I say. “Tonight’s for celebrating! I’ve slowed the spirit clock. We should have music and dance. I’d play piano, but-”
And with a grin I remember: I have all my fingers here. I’m so delighted, I rush to the piano and sit down. I was never as accomplished as Elizabeth or Konrad, but my hands have a new confidence as they command a waltz from the keys.
When I look up, Henry is dancing with Elizabeth. Circling them like their own little solar system around the sun is Konrad with Analiese. Laughter mingles with my music, and I play faster. I cannot remember the last time I felt so heedlessly happy. Not for months; maybe not ever. Everything I desire is right here, right now.
“I wish I could dance with you as well, Konrad,” Elizabeth calls out to him.
“Me too,” he says, and then politely adds, “though I’m most pleased with my current partner.”
“You’re very kind,” Analiese replies. “I’m a terribly clumsy dancer.”
“Not at all. But it might go smoother if you let me lead,” Konrad says with a chuckle.
I wonder how their touches feel to each other. Are they cold and dewy, or do they have a human heat to them? I also wonder how much time they’ve spent together here. Surely they must constantly seek out each other’s company, and maybe more. She is very beautiful. Is this truly the first time Konrad has held her?
I feel a thrill of pleasure course up through my arm, and look down to see that a butterfly has settled on my right hand, riding with my fingers as they cavort across the keys, no doubt enhancing my playing.
Beyond the windows I see the mysterious white mist, slowly churning, as if taking an interest in our doings. The glass shudders faintly, but I play louder to drown out the noise.
When I next look up, I almost trip over the keys. Dancing, Henry and Elizabeth fit perfectly in each other’s arms, and I have never seen Henry look so straight and commanding. With every turn on the floor, Elizabeth seems to surrender to him. She smiles, and he says something that I can’t hear, and Elizabeth laughs, a sound so lovely I want to lock it away so only I can hear it.
Can she actually be trying to make me or Konrad jealous? Is she punishing him for dancing with Analiese? I look at my brother and can tell he’s distracted. Not even death can divide me from his thoughts. Although he cannot look directly upon them, he seems to sense the strange gravity between Elizabeth and Henry. A furrow appears in his brow.
My feelings of loyalty to my brother are quickly vanquished by my own jealousy. When I catch the look Elizabeth now gives Henry, my heart coldly compresses, for it reminds me of that look she gave me, on our first visit to the spirit world. Is the touch of another young man, any young man, enough to win such a look from her here?
I want that look upon me, and I want what followed-the animal abandon when we but touched.
I will dance with her myself.
I stand, and even though my fingers leave the keys, the piano still plays. In amazement I see, through the propped-open top, several butterflies flitting from string to string, continuing my song.
I laugh in delight and seize a violin from its shelf, taking up the bow. I’ve never studied the instrument properly, but a butterfly comes and settles on my bow hand, and when I stroke it across the strings, music soars from them.
“Ha! Look at this!”
Elizabeth glances over with a laugh. “You’re a prodigy, Victor!”
Is she complimenting me, or mocking me? I cannot be sure. After a few moments I set down the violin and grab a flute from its rack. A butterfly hovers over the stops, and the moment I exhale into the mouthpiece, the most delightful sound flows through it.
Elizabeth does not even react to this new feat, only whispers something into Henry’s ear. He gives her the secretive smile of a man who has received something precious.
I can stand it no longer. I must put an end to their dance. I set down the flute and start to walk toward Henry to cut in. The waltz still careens from the piano, picking up speed. Everyone dances on, laughter and music swirling crazily around me. The very walls of the room seem to colorfully pulse in time to the beat, or to my racing heart. When I take her in my arms, what will happen? Will she pull free? Has she learned to master her desire for me, even here? Or will we embrace and kiss in front of everyone?
I do not care.
I tap Henry on the shoulder. “May I?”
With a maddening confidence he steps back with a bow. I stretch out my hand and see Elizabeth hesitate, fear and desire intermingled in her hazel eyes. Her hand lifts toward mine.
“Take care of the music for us, will you, Henry?” I say dismissively.
“Of course. You’ll need their help dancing, no doubt.”
I turn, an eyebrow raised. “Henry, you envy my accomplishments?”
“Accomplishments? It’s not your own doing. You’re like Wilhelm Frankenstein, painting his portrait with the help of those butterflies.”
I shrug. “They choose their own master, Henry.”
“Why do they choose to help only you?” he demands, and I’m surprised by the anger that transforms his face.
“I had no part in it, Henry-”
“No doubt you think it’s yet another sign of your brilliance?”
I’d meant to placate Henry, but his insult quickly erases any such intention.
“Why not? They seem discerning little fellows, so why not pick the most able master?”
“Your arrogance knows no bounds, does it?” says Henry, taking an aggressive step toward me.
Instinctively I shove him back. “I didn’t know you had such a temper, Henry Clerval!”
Music hurtles from the piano, heedlessly loud and out of rhythm. The whole room seems to tilt slightly.
